I can't actually believe the story got two followers AND a favorite! Holy crap! And did you see the season finale? Damn, I can't wait till season 10 :P

This chapter actually got a bit longer than expected, kind of got into a writing flooooooow…. And the beginning is from another story about a 9 year old Daryl that meets a 9 year old Connor and Murphy. It didn't go so well, so I stopped writing it. But at least some of it came to use after all ^^

In a park somewhere in Georgia there were sitting a 12 year old boy on one of the benches. You could see that he was rather upset and deep in thoughts as he stared in to nothing. He was angry. Angry at his brother for going away, angry at his father, and most of all afraid of him coming back. He had no idea where his father was. He could come walking down the street by the park any second as far as he knew, with made him terrified. His swollen wrist and the black eye hadn't popped up from nowhere. His brother used to protect him, taking the worst of the blows, but he had joined the army and wasn't going to come home in a while. So now he was sitting there on the bench, making time slowly pass. There were kids playing all around him, but no one ever asked if he wanted to play with them. He wasn't surprised. His family had managed to get kind of a reputation, and when children was close to him he would receive glares from their parents telling him he wasn't welcome. But he had stopped caring a long time ago.

They could all go and screw themselves.

An alley not far from the park lit up with a bright light and two humans and one angel suddenly appeared. Guess which one who fell.

"Cass!" Sam and Dean crouched down next to Cass.

"I'm alright" Cass said while holding up a reassuring hand. He stood up, only to fall back on Dean.

"Cass, you are not alright." Sam said firmly. "Let's get you a motel." Beside him Dean was muttering 'I knew this was going to happen' under his breath.

"No. Let me just catch my breath for a while. And then I'll be fine."

"You said that the spell was going to save your powers!" Dean growled.

"I said it was going to take less on my powers, Dean." And already Cass sounded a lot better.

"Well, at least it's better than last time." Sam sighed. Cass, who actually could stand up straight by himself now, looked at Sam and Dean.

"So, Cass, what are we gonna do now?" Dean folded his arms over his chest.

"We find the demon and we kill it."

"How do we find it? I mean, how do we even know it's here?" Sam asked.

"It's like every other demon, it gives of sulfur, cold spots, and because the spell brought us here, I suppose this is where it's located."

But for some reason Sam felt like Cass wasn't telling them everything.

Cass looked at Dean, then Sam. "Did you bring the demon knife?"

"Yeah we did. Right Sammy?" Dean answered, determination in his voice.

"Um…" Sam rummaged through the bag.

"Oh please tell me you packed it!" Dean said when he saw Sam's look, telling him he hadn't found it.

"Wait, you're telling me this is MY fault? Why didn't you pack it?!"

"And I suppose Cass doesn't have enough power to go back in time to get it." Dean turned to Cass.

"No."

"Just what I thought. And we don't have enough time to find one either. So I suppose we're gonna have to go with the oh-so-good demon trap and exorcism. Freaking great." Dean walked out from the alley. Sam sighed and followed his older brother, Cass only two steps behind.

The next couple of hours was a pain in the ass. The trio had split up, Dean and Cass taking one side of the small Georgian town, Sam the other side. They were supposed to meet in the middle.

They went everywhere: hospital, supermarkets, fast food joints, even bars and strip clubs. But no sign of anything. They talked to some of the locals: ended up with nada. When Sam was out of places he called Dean.

"Hey man, any luck?"

Dean sighed "Nah. This town is dead. What about you?"

"I've got nothing. Meet up to grab a bite in fifty?"

"Yeah, ok. Meet you at Wendy's."

Sam hung up and started to walk towards their meeting point. Halfway there, he spotted a bar he haven't seen before. Sam looked down at his watch. 4:20 pm. He still got thirty minutes left, might as well check the place out.

You know, better safe than sorry.

"What can I get ye honey?" the lady behind the counter asked while cleaning a glass. You know, like all bartenders do.

"Oh, um, I'll have—" he was cut off by a series of fake coughing.

"Are ye alright there honey?" concern in her voice as she leaned forward. "Here, lemme give ye a glass o' water." Sam gratefully accepted it.

"Yeah," another cough "I'm alright. Just a bit sensitive to sulfur." He took a sip from the glass.

"Sulfur?" The lady said while crocking he eyebrows.

"Yeah, I know. Not the most common thing to be allergic to." Sam chuckled. "Can't you smell it?" the lady sniffed the air like a dog.

"Nah, I ain't smellin' no sulfur. Ye sure yer alright?"

"I don't know." Sam shuttered "Is it just me, or is it a bit cold in here?" the lady gave of a small laugh, but grew silent when she saw that Sam was being serious.

"Oh, honey, this's Georgia! Ain't never any clod spots around here. Plus, the air conditioner haven't worked fer a while now, either." Sam sighed and looked down on his watch.

"Well, I better get goi—"

"Now when I think 'bout it," the lady suddenly "sometimes when a customer… Nah, 's probably nothin'." Sam jerked his head up.

"No, please. Tell me. You said something about a customer?" The lady hesitated for a bit. "It's alright, you can tell me." Sam assured.

"Ye know, I usually don' talk 'bout costumers…" She started, staring into Sam's eyes. When he didn't understand, her eyes trailed down to his pocket where he had his wallet. He followed her gaze and wanted to punch himself, of course! How stupid could one bee? He took out a twenty and put it on the counter, and she immediately snatched it up and put it in her bra.

"He's a regular at all o' the bars in town, mostly here though, comes in here at least three or four times a week. N' every time it gets a bit more chilly. But he always comes later in the evenin', so I suppose tha's the reason. Ye know, whit the evenin' air out there n' the hot air in here…"

"Do you know where I can find him?" Sam eagerly asked.

"Wha's it to ye anyways?" the lady asked through narrowed eyes.

"Please, I really, really, need to know." Sam begged.

"Well, I'm sorry honey, I'd love ta help…" She trailed of. Sam sighed and put up another twenty, which disappeared just as quickly as last time.

"Don' know where he lives, but his name's Will Dixon." Sam said a quick thank you and ran out. He was just about to pick up his phone and call Dean when his phone began to ring.

Speaking of the devil.

"Sam where the hell are you? We were supposed to meet up!"

"Shut up Dean, listen. I've got a lead."

Hope that my Southern accent wasn't that bad :P And yes, the "Guess which one who fell." sentence was a reference to season 9 :P

Apelsin